Incubation
by Nerveux
Summary: It might've been an uphill struggle while walking on glass with bare feet, but it was worth it for them, right? ...Right? A story of a Sniper. Rated T for language. Mild sad elements as story goes on.


_Hai guys. This is the authours note, for all other chapters you can find it at the BOTTOM, this one, however, is at the top. Anyway, yes, this is technically TF2 fanficiton about a Sniper OC, but really, it could pretty much work for any Sniper, I think. Err. I have a general idea of how this is going to work out, but, who knows. Enjoy~Also. I can't write accents. HA._

Everything seemed to be long and painful for him, or at least tidious, and everything always was. It wasn't a question, or a suggestion, it was a fact. Even when he sat there on the train staring out the window at the endless, forgettable scenery he would've rather have been being run over by the machine that was twitching along what seemed to be an endless stretch of track.

It wasn't that he wanted to die. It was that he didn't want to be on this God forsaken train. He was rolling along at extreme speeds to a place where the instructions would be ,"Kill the guys in the other color.".

He'd never killed anyone before, and had only loosely considered it a few times. It wasn't something that he was happily mulling over. Worse yet, he couldn't even peacefully mull it over. He wasn't the only one who was traveling to the Builder's League United's building on this day. He was being accompanied by a lad who he suspect was a little older than half his age, and another man just short of double his.

He wouldn't deny that he wasn't really that open and friendly. He prefered to spend time alone or in very specific company. Mostly these people were pretty quiet and they spent their time playing card games or watching a ball game. But he did know how to deal with people who didn't know how to shut up. The key was to act as uninterested as possible until they finally got the hint. It tended to offend people at the end but then again, if you don't even have the patience to listen to them for more than 3 minutes, did you really care anyway?

"Yeah, I been known to roll a few heads." The young one said smugly as he crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat; a smirk tugging across his face. "It ain't really that hard, then again, how could it be for someone like me?" The man older man with the glasses at least pretended to be interested in what he was saying; the other man just glared out the window..

Unfortunately, glaring didn't block out sound. It was about 15 minutes before he whipped around at the young man and threatened to figure out a way to fit him in the overhead compartments if he didn't shut up.

"Do ya even know who you're talking to? You can't talk to me like that!" He yelled reaching for a metal bat he kept attached to his waist.

"**Genug**!" Boomed a voice that startled the 2 bickering gentlemen. "Ve are da same team and ve vill akt like it!" His voice was almost inaudible by a heavy German accent, but it was clear by his tone that he wasn't planning on putting up with fighting today, and any day soon.

The young man hesitantly sunk back into his seat, the other mumbled a short apology, and turned his attention to looking at the 2 men.

"Now, " continued the older gentlemen, "Ve are all going into zat var wit a spacific job to do. Vhy don't ve talk about zat. I vill start, I vill be the new team doctor."

"Cool, story, doc. I'm gonna be a Scout, whateva the hell that is." The young man said with a shrug. "I get to runna around and shoot things. Good enough for me. What about you Scarface?"

"Don't call me that." The last mumbled as he began lighting up a cigarette. A large scar that reached from under his left eye to the middle of his right cheek was on the list of things he'd rather not discuss.

"You shouldant smoke, It's bad for you." The Medic said, a frown pulling at his features.

"You know what else is bad for you, Doctor?" He responded before inhaling and exhaling the toxins. "Going to war. But you seem to have jumped aboard that bandwagon." There was a moment of silence with between the two. Then, the Medic chuckled a bit and smirked.

"You're clevar one aren't you?" The last responded back with the same smirk tugging on his face. Their conversation would have probably gone on, but, Scout was getting impatient.

"Yo, Lovebirds!" He exclaimed turning the focus to him again. "Jeez, anyway, What're you going to be here for anyways, Scarface?"

"I told you not to call me that."

"Who cares?" He replied with a scoff.

A frown, then a sigh, and finally and answer: "I'm going to be the-", unfortunately, the answer was cut short when the vehicle took an abrupt stop that sent it's 2 youngest passengers out of their seats and onto the floor while the Medic managed to hang on and stay in his seat.

"What the fuck just happened?" The Scout yelled almost immediately, jumping to his feet. However, before anyone could answer the door was forced open and the only thing that could be heard was a voice that yelled,

"MAGGOTS!" Before any of the three could figure out was going on a man sprinted into the compartment of the train where they had been conversing attacking the three with a shovel. The Scout and the Medic cleanly dodged, however, the helmeted man had managed to hit one of his targets. "Well. It appears we made a good description with this Medic and Scout." He spoke taking a step back. "But this Sniper's reflexes are terrible!"


End file.
